All my life, the Muse of Poetry has visited me in nature, usually during solitary walks
along the shore or by the creek where I live today. Sometimes the Muse brings fragments,
phrases, lines, sometimes whole poems to later prune, refine and polish.

I need the earth, the sky, the weather, sun, moon and stars, trees, flowers, birds, and, if at all possible, water in any form, together with all the life in, along and around it. I need crashing waves, the tides, a lake, a spring, a rivulet, a tumbling stream moving quickly over rocks, the currents, shallows, depths and pools of a river, its bluffs and gravel bars.

I can walk outdoors by water anywhere in the world, but to welcome and listen to the Muse, I need solitude, away from the pressing crowds.

I need to take these quiet walks more often.

J.R.P